


you are enough

by Satine86



Series: that modern AU [16]
Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Gen, I'm sorry Phillip, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Suggestive Themes, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 12:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16304990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: Or 5 birthdays Phillip wanted to forget, and 1 he would always remember.





	you are enough

**Author's Note:**

> This was another accident that I wrote for Modern AU. It's also sad as hell, because Phillip had a sad, sad life until Anne showed up. But it ends happy. He's happy. *points at wedding fic* SEE HE IS SO HAPPY!
> 
> Also each age/birthday has its own song. So have a listen for extra feels.

i. **Seven** \- [All The King's Horses](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tsdVRsuaXbE)

It was going to be the best day. Phillip was sure of it, and he scrambled out of bed that morning before the nanny even came in to wake him up. He got ready and dressed himself on his own, he was seven now after all. Not a baby anymore. And he was certain his father would be proud of him. 

Once him deemed himself ready, Phillip hurried downstairs. The house seemed quiet, but it was early still. Early for him anyway. Besides, that had to be part of the surprise. Like they had done for uncle Warren’s birthday during the summer in the Hamptons. Everyone had been so quiet, hiding. Even Eddie had managed to stay still until his father appeared and they all shouted _happy birthday!_ at once. That was why no one had talked about his birthday yet, it had to be. Even if he kind of knew, he would still act surprised. He imagined a big breakfast prepared for his birthday, and a party later. Because mother loved planning parties. And maybe he would get the bike he had been begging for. And maybe he could convince father to teach him to ride it instead of Larisa. Maybe. 

He jumped off the last step, feet muffled by the thick carpet lining the entryway. Downstairs he could now hear the normal comings and goings of the house -- Cook bustling around in the kitchen, the maid cleaning the front foyer -- and that was a good sign, he thought. 

Phillip found his way to the dining table. It was empty, save the bowl of fruit that lived there permanently and the vase full of fresh cut flowers -- oranges and reds and yellows for fall. There was no grand breakfast, none of his favorite foods. There weren't any place settings either, not for him, or his parents. Even his father’s morning paper was absent. 

Poking his head into the kitchen, it looked like any other day. Phillip raced back upstairs to his parents room. He knocked and waited for permission, like he had been instructed. Only it never came. So he carefully opened the door and peeked his head inside. Neither of his parents were in sight. 

Creeping in slowly, he looked for any sign of them. He didn’t find any, but did find the doors to their closet were slightly ajar. Several of his mother’s shoes were missing from the rack, some empty hangers stacked on the stool in the corner. Mostly importantly the luggage that was kept on the top shelf was also gone. 

The realization him like a wave crashing against the shore. They had left on a trip. Without him. Because they had forgotten. 

Tears burned behind his eyes, and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He stalked out of his parents’ room with hunched shoulders, fists balled at his side. Upon exiting the room he came face to face with Larisa, his nanny.

He liked Larisa, she was nice and fun, and the youngest person on staff. She helped his mother too, but he was still scared she was going to leave one day. Once he got too old. He wondered if seven was too old. 

Right now she looked at him with a pitying smile and he didn’t like it. “You saw that they’ve gone?”

He nodded. “Why?”

“Something came up with your father’s work. There was some emergency meeting or something.” Larisa shrugged and he believed her. “But we can do whatever you want today! We can go into the city. It’ll be fun.” 

“No.” Phillip shook his head.

“Do you want to invite your friends over? Cook is baking a cake.” 

“No. I don’t want to do anything.” He looked up at Larisa. “They forgot.” 

“Oh, Phillip.” She knelt down in front of him, eyes softening. “Sometimes grown ups lose track of things, and they don’t--”

“You don’t have to lie to make my feel better. They forgot about me, that’s the truth.” He swiped at his face. He had cried in front of Larisa before, loads of times, but he didn’t want to now. He didn’t want anyone to see. “I’m going to my room.”

She let him go without a word. Later she would try to coax him out with food and cake and even a present. Although none of that matter. Not when it was the worst day ever. 

 

ii. **Sixteen** \- [One of the Drunks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cc7GJAMo5SY)

 

He felt free. It was intoxicating, and he wished he could bottle it up. 

No more stupid, structured parties that better served his parents than they did him. The guest list usually consisting more of his friends’ parents, than his actual friends. No more listening to his mother nag him about his posture or how he was dressed or how his hair was combed. No more listening to his father talk about responsibilities and growing up and acting like a ‘dignified young man.’ This year he had his own party, his own way. And it was a fucking rager. 

Music blasted, the thump of the bass so loud it rattled the windows and shook the floor. They might get a noise complaint by the end of the night, but it would be worth it. Even if his dad blew a gasket. The house was absolutely packed, classmates and acquaintances and some of his cousins, all smashed together and generating so much body heat the windows fogged up against the cold night air outside. Some people were writing to the music in the living room, turning it into a makeshift rave. Others were sneaking upstairs to commandeer any empty rooms, and more still were spilling into kitchen and study and wherever else that wasn’t on strict lockdown. 

Phillip weaved his way through the people, realizing there were more and more faces he didn’t recognize. Word had apparently gotten out. It was definitely turning out to be a great party. Eventually he made his way to the kitchen, found Eddie chatting up a gaggle of girls that might have been in college. They certainly didn’t go to Phillip’s school, and he was fine with that. 

“And there’s Philly!” Eddie crowed the second he saw him, yanking Phillip into their little circle and slinging an arm around his neck. “Ladies, if I may introduce our host for this illustrious evening and the birthday boy himself, my cousin, Phillip.” 

The girls all smiled and fawned and batted their eyes. It was all incredibly appealing, and Phillip easily returned their grins. Yeah, it was the best fucking party. 

“To Phillip!” Eddie lifted his cup, as did the girls surrounding them. As did the rest of the people crowding the kitchen. A cup was pressed into Phillip’s hand, he downed the contents with the others. Beer at first, then some special ‘punch’ that tasted sweet and not at all like alcohol. Cup after cup as the night wore on, more people pouring into the house that Phillip didn’t know.

It didn’t matter.

It was a party.

It was his birthday. And he felt fucking untouchable, because that feeling of freedom was already bottled. Distilled. 80 proof. It was exhilarating. 

He had no idea what time it was when one of the girls started dragging him upstairs, her hand sliding up under the hem of his shirt, her lips on his neck. They stumbled along toward his room. The world fuzzy, his head buzzing with alcoholic as anticipation curled in his belly. The pair of them nearly tumbled into his bedroom, and he thought he should be nervous his first time. But he wasn’t. He was invincible.

As her hands started to undo his belt, pulling it free of the loops before moving onto the button and zipper, Phillip caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Eyes hooded and bloodshot, hair a mess, and the world seemed to tilted on its axis. He was drunk. It didn’t matter though. It was his damn birthday, he could do whatever he wanted. 

Her hand dipped below the band of his underwear, her lips on his neck again. 

It was was his birthday and he felt fucking free for the first time in his life. 

 

iii. **Twenty** \- [Casual Sex](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i87uV7dqdIc)

 

“What about her?” Phillip took a swig from his cup, watched the redhead flounce past. Hips swaying with each step, her skirt obscenely short and barely covering her ass.

Next to him Eddie shook his head, slung an arm around Phillip’s shoulders and scoffed loudly. “She's a townie, Phil. You don't tap townie ass on your birthday. You save that shit for when you're desperate.” 

“She was hot though?” 

“Really, dude, broaden your horizons. Use that boyish charm and those baby blues of yours.” Eddie playfully slapped Phillip’s cheek. He barely felt it. He barely felt anything at the moment. 

“Okay, Yoda. Teach me your ways of getting laid.” 

“Consider this, my friend: sorority chicks.”

“Too high maintenance, I don’t want to spend half the night chasing tail.” 

“Look, Heather knows some girls. It’s an in. Besides, you have birthday mojo. And if that doesn’t work, I still have some of your birthday present left for that extra pick me up.” He patted his shirt pocket, where the outline of the small plastic packet was just barely visible. 

It was some good shit, but Eddie always had the good shit. It didn’t matter if it was liquor or drugs or anything else. Phillip sniffed, almost involuntarily, nose still burning a little from the hit they had before heading out. 

“Jesus, are you still banging Heather? It’s been months.” 

Eddie shrugged. “She’s a good lay, and she’s conceited enough she never stays the night because she doesn’t want me to see without her makeup. So it’s a win-win.”

“Mhm, clearly marriage materiel. I’m sure your mom will love her.” 

“Don’t say the M word, dick. I hear that enough from both our moms, I might break out in hives.” Eddie shuddered, slid a shot toward Phillip across the bar. “Now drink that and we’ll go find you a nice piece of sorority ass.” 

Laughing, Phillip threw back his head and downed the shot. The warm burn of the whiskey warming him beyond the burning self-assuredness and boundless energy that came with the heady rush of so much coke in his system. It was a newer sensation, but it was good. Really good. 

“Hey,” Eddie said, ordering them each another round of drinks. “Maybe if you’re lucky we’ll find a nice freshman and she’ll even cuddle afterward.” He leaned in close to Phillip, batted his eyes.

“Get out of my face!” Phillip shoved Eddie away, took his drink from the bartender and followed his cousin to where Heather, the not-quite-girlfriend-booty-call, was clustered with a group of her friends. He realized he knew a fair amount of them in passing, a few were even in a couple of his classes. Phillip eyed them up and down, already planning a course of action when Eddie held out a hand to stop him. “What?” 

“Second part of your birthday present. Open your mouth.” 

“Ew. No.”

“Just do it, you fucking baby.” 

Sighing, he did as Eddie requested. Waiting for a second before Eddie dropped a small tablet on his tongue and shut his mouth with a faint click, patting his cheek.

“What was it?” 

“Just some E. Now you’ve got a time limit: get in one of their pants before that shit kicks it. Don’t wanna waste a good time.” 

Phillip could only laugh Eddie. It was his birthday, he might as well have a good time. The mixture of drugs and alcohol coursed through his veins, muddling everything into a pleasant, encompassing high. Tonight was a night he was invincible. With a confidence he didn’t usually have, Phillip looked at the girls once more. Mentally ticking off what he knew about them.

One of them, he couldn’t remember her name, definitely caught his eye. She was cute, blonde and perpetually perky. Majoring in dance. That meant bendy. Bendy was good. Phillip discreetly gestured toward her with the glass in his hand, and leaned in close to Eddie’s ear with a grin on his face. 

“Okay, what about her?” 

 

iv. **Twenty-four** \- [I'll Be Good](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=POqEVwROEQs)

 

“You really can’t keep doing this. No one should be this hungover on their birthday.” Phillip moaned, body aching, and stared at his reflection; the gaunt cheeks and the puffy, bloodshot blue eyes. The dark circles that looked almost like bruises. Then he glanced around at the messy bathroom, clothes on the floor, everything needing to be cleaned. The mess extended out into an equally messy bedroom, and apartment. The mark of an even messier life. 

Yanking open the medicine cabinet, Phillip pulled down a bottle of aspirin and popped some in his mouth, swallowed them dry. He worked his jaw and rolled his neck until it popped, although it did nothing to relieve the rhythmic throbbing at his temples. The mirror swung back into place, once again revealing his pale face. 

“You know what you are?” he mumbled. “You’re a fucking drunk.” Maybe he was still a little drunk. Maybe he wasn’t really sure he knew the difference anymore. 

Maybe he didn’t even want to.

What he did know was that he couldn’t remember how he made it home last night. Or even most of the night out, really. Other getting ready and meeting up with Eddie and Heather and the rest of the group. He also knew that he honestly didn’t remember the brunette in his bed. His sure as shit didn’t remember her name. But that didn’t really matter. It never did. Because she would be gone by first light, sneaking out like a phantom never to be seen again. Just like every other one. Party girls didn’t ask too many questions outside of whether or not you had a condom, and which place was closer: yours or theirs. And they certainly never expected much. Usually he didn’t either. 

Once upon a time that wouldn’t have bothered him. Not the one night stands or the drinking or the drugs. Or even the endless nights he couldn’t rightfully recall. But it was starting to. Everything was finally taking its toll. He was tired of it. He was tired of feeling like shit. 

He was tired of feeling like nothing mattered. Least of all himself. 

The room titled, his head spinning, and he really was still drunk. His stomach rolled, a cold sweat beading along his brow. He dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and threw up -- little more than stomach acid and aspirin -- and knew this had to stop. The partying, the booze. It all had to change. His life had to change. 

Once he felt like he wouldn’t be sick again, Phillip hauled himself to his feet and rinsed his mouth, splashed his face. He looked up, water dripping from his chin and met his hazy gaze in the mirror. He sighed heavily, shoulders sagging as he braced his hands on the sink.

“You will not keep fucking doing this.” 

 

v. **Twenty-six** \- [Feel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uwC0w-sCJGM)

 

Phillip didn't really want to be alone, and some of the troupe were going out. Lettie had invited him along, more than once actually. He had politely declined each time. 

But it was his birthday and the idea of being around people held a certain appeal, except it was a bar. He was doing well, too, and he didn’t want to fuck that up just because he hated being alone. So he said no. Instead straightening up his office, watching as some of the dancers paraded by his open door, laughing together. It was nice to see how close they all were.

When it came time to head home, once again Lettie tried to get him to come along. And he almost wondered if she knew what day it was. Once again he said no, cited paperwork as his excuse -- it wasn't a lie, he would go over invoices, it just wasn't as pressing as he made it out to be. Lettie took it all in stride, her smile wide. 

“Next time then, boss man,” she said. 

“Yeah, next time,” he replied. He doubted there would be a next time, but it was nice to pretend there might be.

With a wave, Phillip headed home. He could have stopped somewhere, maybe bought himself a cake. Or he could have taken Charity up on her open invitation for dinner at the Barnum house. But suddenly the idea of facing people and pretending to be happy, seemed like such a chore, and he felt tired. Too tired to try. Definitely too tired for all of twenty-six. So he just went back to his apartment. 

Unlocking the door, everything was quiet. Utterly still and completely undisturbed since he had left that morning. He switched on the lights, glanced around the small entry and tidy living room devoid of any personal touches. He had owned it nearly a year and it still didn't feel like home. He wondered if it ever would.

Shuffling into the kitchen he pulled leftovers out of the fridge, the idea of cooking was too much. He plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV, mostly for the noise. It always made the apartment seem a little less empty. 

It was ironic, he realized, how hard he had worked to change his life. To get sober, in hopes of finding something better than an endless string of nights that all blurred together with people who didn't really matter. Or who even cared. 

Yet there he was, more alone than ever. What had he expected though? That he would finally get sober and his life would magically change in an instant. It had changed, was changing in a lot of ways, but it still felt as empty as his apartment. At the moment it was cold comfort to think that it might change for the better in the future.

What would better even look like? Not an empty apartment for one. Living with someone was a foreign concept, but it sounded nice. In theory, to have someone there. With photos and souvenirs from times he actually wanted to remember, instead of things better forgotten and collecting dust in the back of his closet. 

Cliche as it was, he wanted to love someone. _Really_ love someone. And have them love him back. Phillip snorted at his own maudlin thoughts and got up. He washed the dishes, prepped the coffee machine for the morning. 

In a fit of insanity or foolishness, Phillip pulled out a book of matches from the junk drawer and lit one. He let it burn for a second and thought hard about all the things he wanted. Then he made a wish and blew out the match. 

Instead of going over paperwork, and turning himself into a liar in the process, Phillip gave up any pretext of caring and got ready for bed. He was still so exhausted. Climbing into his cold bed, he left his thoughts drift again. 

What would she be like, he wondered. The woman who would love him. Although he supposed it didn't matter, she wasn't real anyway. Rolling onto his side, Phillip let out a deep breath. He just didn’t want to feel alone anymore.

 

+1 **Twenty-seven** \- [You Are Enough](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LX3lvwks7NU)

 

Phillip woke to a faint tickling against his cheek, followed by Anne's singsong voice in his ear.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

He scrunched his face, didn't even open his eyes as turned into her and flung an arm over her waist, buried his face in her shoulder. 

“Why?” he asked, voice rough.

“Because I realized something important.”

Taking in a deep breath that smelled pleasantly of Anne, Phillip rolled onto his back and rubbed a hand over his face. “And what's that?” 

“It's your birthday in exactly one week!” she said in sheer delight.

“Says who?” 

“Says me and my phone’s calendar and the fact I asked you months ago. But with moving in and everything I almost forgot, could you imagine?” Anne propped herself up on her elbow, rested her hand on his chest.

Despite himself, Phillip laughed. “That'd just be par for the course at this point.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Just that birthdays and I don't really get along, is all.”

“I know your parents are, well, your parents, but they must've had some good parties when you were a kid. Like completely over the top.”

“Well, there was the time they ended up in Malibu for my seventh birthday. I'm sure they had a great time.” He didn't think anything of it anymore, it was just how it was. A part of his life. But just because he was used to it, still didn't mean it was normal. Phillip realized his mistake when Anne sat up completely, her hair a wild mass of curls, and a frown marring her face.

“They were in Malibu for your birthday?” She spoke slowly as she processed the full implications of it. “Are you saying they forgot? They actually forgot your birthday?”

Phillip yawned, hoping his flippancy might defuse the situation. “My dad had a business thing, so they left...and forgot me.” 

“How could they just forget-” Anne's face fell and she was quiet for a while. “Was it always like that?”

“No, not always.” 

“What was it like?” Her voice was soft, eyes locked on his face. He would have to answer her.

“Lots of times it ended up more of a way for them to mingle with business connections. It's just how it was.” He shrugged. “I've never had a good birthday, so what? It doesn't matter, it's just a day. I learned that when I was seven.”

“Wait, what do you mean never?” She was incredulous now, and Phillip sighed. He knew it would go poorly whatever he said at this point, but Anne would know if he didn't tell the truth. He sat up a little bit, propped his back against the pillows. 

“I mean, growing up all my birthdays were more about my parents than me. Then when I was sixteen I drank, which seemed fun at the time but not so much looking back. After that there aren't many I remember one way or the other. So birthdays and I don't get along. It's not a big deal,” he said. 

Anne looked as if she wanted to cry or murder someone. Probably both. He placed a soothing hand on her back. “Please don't cry, Anne. I’m fine with all of that, I swear I am, but I’m not fine with you crying.”

She covered her face with both hands. “How can you never have had a good birthday?” she asked, hands muffling her voice. 

“I mean they weren’t all shit. But those are rare. I just had a twenty year bad streak, is all.” He tried to laugh if off, but he was sure Anne wasn’t going to buy it. 

“Well I’m breaking it.” Anne stretched out next to him, legs twining around his as she hugged his waist. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “I’m going to throw you a huge party. I’ll ask Charity for help, and everyone will be there and you’ll hate every second because you’ll be the center of attention.”

“Sounds wonderful,” he laughed. 

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” He was honestly amused, the idea of a birthday party -- likely a more traditional one than any he had ever had -- did hold some appeal. Even if it was just morbid curiosity. “Although I had already planned on spending that day with you, so you were going to break the bad streak regardless.” 

“That’s something, I suppose.” Anne turned her head and kissed his neck. “I’m still throwing you a party though.” 

“Or… I have a better idea.” 

Anne let out a breath, a sigh mixed with a laugh. “And what’s that?”

Phillip tightened an arm around Anne, rolled them until he was hovering over her. “We don’t have a party. In fact we don’t tell anyone it’s my birthday. And instead we spend it in bed. Completely naked.” 

“That is very tempting.” Anne reached up and laid her hand against his cheek. “You’re still getting a party though. People will want to have a party once they know, and I’m telling everyone.”

“No one will care, Anne. If we tell them it’ll just feel like a weird obligation for work. The boss’s birthday. No one needs that.”

“Everyone seemed pretty happy to go to P.T’s birthday party.”

“Yeah, but he’s P.T,” he said as if that explained everything. It did to him, but it didn’t seem to for Anne. Her face changed, grew a little pensive, a little thoughtful. She studied him for a long moment, and eventually framed his face with her hands. 

“Phillip, people care about you. You’re not alone.” She craned her neck and kissed him. “You’re certainly not forgotten, you never will be again.” 

That was almost too much to handle, especially because he knew she was serious about that too. Phillip shut his eyes and dropped his forehead to her chest. “Okay, we’ll have the party.”

“It’s adorable you thought there was ever any chance there wasn’t going to be a party.” She was grinning when he lifted his head again. He didn’t have a response to that, so he kissed her instead. 

“Can I tell you something?” 

“Is it about birthdays?”

“Yeah.”

She sucked in a breath and nodded. “Okay.”

“Last year I didn’t let anyone know, so I was alone. I spent part of it thinking about what I wanted, and I wanted to be in love. I wanted someone here.” He paused, swallowed thickly. “Then you were hired like a month later, and I was so in love I could barely breathe. And now you’re here.” 

“I’m here.” A slow smile spread across Anne’s face as she snaked her arms around his neck, and pulled him down for another kiss. 

 

* * *

 

“I already know there’s a party, so why do I have to close my eyes?” Phillip frowned as he shuffled along, his hands in Anne’s as she guided him. He knew the venue, had walked into the lobby without a thought until she had ordered him to shut his eyes. 

“Because I said so. No peeking!” She shook his arm when he tried to pry open one eye. 

“This is ridiculous.” 

“It’s fun. Just have fun. Okay stop for a second. I’m gonna open the door. And seriously no peeking or I’m taking back your birthday present.” 

“Ooh, bribery. Fine, I won’t cheat.” 

She dropped his hands for a second, and he could hear a latch on a door click faintly. He thought he heard Anne shush people, and a smothered giggle that sounded distinctly like Helen. Phillip smiled. Then Anne grabbed his hands again and pulled him a few more feet.

“Okay,” she whispered. “You can open your eyes now.” 

The moment he opened his eyes, he was bombarded with sights and sounds. As everyone gathered started yelling Happy Birthday while party horns went off. Crackers popping as confetti went streaming across his vision and balloons dropped from the ceiling. Seeing everyone from the theater, plus partners and spouses and kids, was a shock. The crowd almost overwhelming. 

Beyond the crush of people he saw tables upon tables with what appeared to be party games and themes and food, each one different than the last. One looked like pirates, with hats and swords and stuffed parrots. Another was lego themed, and another still looked like… the power rangers? 

“Anne, this is fucking insane,” he managed to mumble before he was set upon by the Barnum girls, and then Charity and P.T. and W.D. and a number of others. 

After he had greeted a great many people, receiving an endless stream of well-wishes, Helen and Caroline were happy to show him around, explaining each different table and how they had helped with suggestions. Because apparently Anne couldn't decide on one kids theme to make up for his missed birthdays, and so she had gone with every theme. 

He caught Anne’s eye across the room, where she was chatting with Lettie and Charity. Phillip shook his head at her. ‘You’re crazy,’ he mouthed at her. 

She simply grinned in return, struck a happy little pose and batted her eyes as if he had given her an actual compliment. He rolled his eyes before he was dragged away by Helen and Caroline toward another table. God, he loved her.

 

* * *

 

“Wait, do I really have to open presents in front of everyone?” 

“Yes, that’s how it works.” Anne wrinkled her nose. “Okay good or bad ones aside, you have been to a birthday party before, right?” 

“Yes. But there are a lot of them?” he whispered. Although no one was paying them much attention at the moment, everyone happily mingling and eating food. “That’s a long time for everyone to focus on me.”

“Are you honestly that shy?” 

“I feel ‘reticent’ is a better assessment, generally. And yes.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Oh, my god. It’s happening, get over it.” 

“Can I do it my way?” 

She considered that for a moment, lips pursed. “Since it’s your birthday, yes. But those presents have to be opened, and you have to thank people.” 

“This is great, I’m being scolded like I actually am seven.” 

“If you make a single spanking joke right now, I’m going to move back in with W.D.” 

He started laughing. “It’s my birthday and I can’t do anything fun.” 

“Poor you.” She rolled her eyes again. Then she stepped away from him, to started to get everyone’s attention for the gifts. 

“Wait, wait!” Phillip interrupted. “Before we start, I need a few helpers. So could all the kids come up here?”

‘All the kids’ turned out to be a fair number, between all the theater babies and nieces and nephews brought along for the party and games. Phillip waved them all over for something akin to a football huddle, and knelt down.

“I have a really big favor to ask. See that pile of presents over there? I need you guys to help me open them. Think you can handle that?” The kids nodded enthusiastically, already buzzing with excitement. “Okay, let’s do it!” 

He clapped his hands to break the impromptu huddle, and the kids all raced for the presents on the table. Earning laughter from the adults, several of the parents already filming. Anne rested her arm on Phillip’s shoulder.

“So that’s your way?” 

“Yeah, this is way more fun than if I was doing it.” He laughed as the kids shredded tissue and tore open wrapping paper, the idea of ripping open presents obviously just as fun as actually receiving them. “Although I do realize a problem now. I hope everyone remembered what they bought because I don’t think the gift tags are going to survive.” 

Phillip eventually made his way over to the carnage, picking out presents. Only vaguely embarrassed by the prospect. But people were still chatting and eating and generally having a good time, so he tried not to think about it too much. 

He picked up one bag that was still fairly intact, saw the little tag was still attached and that it was from Lettie. He pushed back the tissue and peeked inside.

“Okay, that is not appropriate for children to see. Or W.D.,” he muttered to himself and started packing the bag with tissue again. “Thanks Lettie?” he called uncertainly, earning a boisterous laugh from her. 

Most of the other gifts were tamer in nature. Thankfully. He had been telling people all week not to bring anything, although it appeared most everyone had disregarded his requests. He wondered if Anne had threatered anyone. 

Phillip hated being the focus of so much attention all at once. He felt guilty with each new present revealed, as if he were a burden. An obligation. But then he would look up at Lettie or Charles or Nea or Constantine, or anyone else for that matter. And they seemed genuinely happy, pleased to have done something for a friend. 

It was not at all what he was used to.

He found a card in the pile, W.D’s handwriting scrawled across the front of it. Opening it he found Mets tickets for next season. “Wait, what?” Phillip looked at W.D. “Are you serious?” 

“They’re not great seats, so don’t get too excited.” W.D. shrugged him off. “But since it seems like you’re gonna be around for a while, I figure it’s okay to plan ahead. So come spring we’re gonna be bonding over baseball and hot dogs.” 

“Thank you, W.D. I’m looking forward to it.” 

“Yeah, well, I guess we’re friends now.” W.D. gave a slow grin. “Besides, it’s gonna be the Cardinals year.” 

“You wish,” Phillip scoffed. 

When it appeared everything had been opened, everyone thanked profusely for their thoughtfulness, attentions started to turn elsewhere as party games started up -- ridiculous, childrens party games. Phillip breathed a sigh of relief. 

Then Anne leaned in close, passed him one final gift and kissed his temple. “This is from me.”

Phillip frowned at her before carefully untying the ribbon, and peeling back the paper. As the paper fell away he realized it was a picture frame, and flipped it over to see what it held. He blinked at it several times.

“How did you even get this?” 

The photo, shockingly, was of the pair of them at Eddie’s wedding reception. A sweet moment caught on camera. They were standing next to each other, and he was half turned toward her. Anne was laughing, her eyes bright. She was stunning. While he, in his own opinion, looked utterly enamored. Because he had been. He still was. It seemed like a strangely intimate and candid moment. He could remember asking her for a dance. It was a shame they never got it.

“I talked with the photographer a little bit at the meet and greet, she was really nice and gave me her card. So I called and asked.” Anne paused briefly. “Do you like it? I know it’s from an awkward time, but we both looked happy.” 

“I love it. I always thought it was a shame I didn’t have a picture of you that night. You were… incredible.” He looked up at her. “You are incredible.” 

A smile stretched her face. “Does that mean you like your party.”

“Yeah, I like my party. I like you more though.” 

“Good. I like you too.” Anne leaned in close again. 

“If you two are done flirting, we’re ready to bring out the cake. We just need the birthday boy.” 

Phillip swiveled his gaze toward P.T. and frowned. “Did you volunteer to come over here and interrupt us?” 

“What?” P.T. shrugged. “W.D. wasn’t gonna do it.”

“You know, it’s my birthday and I keep getting bossed around. I’m not feeling it.” Phillip started to wave P.T. off. “No one needs to sing me happy birthday. So go, eat cake. And I’ll go find a secluded corner to make out with my girlfriend. Then everybody’s happy.” 

“No,” Anne said.

“No?” He frowned. 

She giggled and glanced at P.T. “Give us a sec?” 

He took his leave without any fussing, which surprised Phillip. Or maybe it was just because it was Anne who was asking.

“So no making out?” Phillip asked. 

“Not now. You’re having the complete birthday experience, baby. So that means you’re going to over there and everyone is going to sing happy birthday to you. And we’ll play silly party games and you’ll have fun. And then--”

“That is a lot of ‘ands’,” he groused. Anne ignored him and pulled him out of his chair. 

“You’ll like this one. Because after all the fun we’ll get to go home,” she said. He did like the sound of that. Home. With Anne. “And,” she continued, “once we’re settled in for the night I’ll give you your second birthday present.” 

His eyebrows shot up at that little revelation. “So let me get this straight? I have two birthday presents from you.” He held up two fingers. Anne nodded. “One of which needs to be given to me in the privacy of our own home.” 

“Maybe.” She shrugged playfully. 

“Can I ask one question?”

“I suppose, since it’s your birthday.” 

“Is the present a thing, like-like the red thing you wore?” 

“I don’t know.” Anne shook her head, fiddled with the collar on his button up. “Maybe it isn’t even something I wear?” 

“I am very intrigued right now and, not gonna lie, more than a little aroused.” 

She kissed his cheek. “But that’s later. For now we have cake. So come on you reticent, taciturn baby. We’ve got to get back to your party.” Anne took his hand, started dragging to where the cake was being brought out. Twenty-seven glowing candles glittered merrily as the lights dimmed, dozens of people singing at once. 

When Phillip leaned over to blow them out, with cries of ‘make a wish’, he realized most of his wishes had already come true. It was, quite honestly, the best day ever.


End file.
